Designated Mulder
by OnlyTheInevitable
Summary: Mulder had always wanted to see what Scully would be like drunk, but he didn't anticipate it would finally happen on the one night they had to share a bed. MSR
1. Nightly Confessions

**Written for peacenik0 for the 2019 X-Files Valentine Fanfic ****Exchange**

While he hated these out-of-town cases that simply involved him and Scully asking to see receipts for manure and reporting to the IRS, he couldn't help but enjoy the one on one time he got to spend with her. Not that he didn't before, but it was easier for them to relax on these cases when their days didn't involve chasing monsters. They were still doing everything they could to get the X-Files back, but right now that meant grinning and bearing this menial, literal, shit work. It was only made bearable by their after-inspection dinners and movie marathons in motel rooms.

Which was probably why he was so miserable right now.

They were assigned to inspect a field just outside Des Moines, and everything had been normal and routine until they went to check in to their motel room.

"I'm sorry, it looks like we don't have a confirmation under that name," the teenage motel clerk shrugged uncaringly.

"It was arranged by the FBI, maybe it-" Mulder tried, not wanting to turn and see the look of irritation he knew Scully was giving him.

The kid cut him off before he could finish. "I'm sorry. There is no reservation."

"Can we make one?" Scully's voice rang out.

"I'm afraid we only have one room left."

He was about to say they'd just try a different motel when Scully took him by surprise and accepted the offer. He was glad she did too, because she couldn't blame him for the situation when they walked into the motel room and saw there was just one queen mattress in the middle of the already too small room. Mulder looked at her to gauge her reaction and was surprised to see the last millisecond of a grin grace her face before she feigned indifference and said she wanted the side by the window.

He couldn't get that little grin he saw out of his mind. Scully from seven years ago would have flat out walked back to the motel lobby and demanded they find another room. Hell, the Scully from even two years ago would have given him tips on how to avoid back pain while she threw his pillow to the floor. But this Scully seemed...eager? He remembered last time they had to share a bed he didn't sleep for the entire night; either too nervous about making her uncomfortable or too distracted by watching her sleep to get more than a few fleeting moments of shut eye. Yet he wasn't even tired the next day, too excited at the prospect of saying he successfully shared a bed with Scully to be concerned about exhaustion.

He'd been so excited to spend the night with her in this little fifteen by fifteen foot room that, when she ran into an old friend unexpectedly in a nearby grocery store and promised to have dinner with her, he couldn't keep the disappointment off his face. He sat on the bed watching a rerun ofThe Twilight Zone as she put on a little more makeup than normal in the bathroom mirror and told him not to wait up for her. Advice he didn't even entertain for a moment.

So now he was just sitting on their shared bed sulking that she wasn't with him. There wasn't exactly much to do in Iowa on a Tuesday night. It was only eleven and he'd already exhausted all his usual methods of self-entertainment. He'd watched a movie, masturbated to the thought of her skirt and blouse combo she'd left in, went for a run, took a shower, and now he was just laying on the bed and staring at the indentations on the popcorn ceiling.

The trill of his cellphone had him stretching over to the nightstand, sitting up a bit more intently when he saw SCULLY reflected in black lettering against the green backdrop.

"Hey Sculls, how's it going?" he asked, laying back down.

His ears perked up when, instead of an answer, he just heard girlish giggling on the other end. "Hello?" he repeated.

"Is this Mulder? Dana's Mulder?" A not-Scully voice slurred on the other end.

By nature, concern started blossoming in his chest, "I am, yes. Is this Karen?" he asked. He remembered faintly that was the name of the woman Scully was going out with, an old friend from med school.

"Y-yeah," she answered to him before seemingly talking to someone else, "Yeah, I called him." He wondered if he was talking to Scully before she returned to him. "Can you come pick us up?" she asked.

"You and Scully?" he asked, already pulling up a pair of jeans while he held his phone with his cheek and shoulder.

"Hi Mulder!" he heard Scully's voice shout out. He realized in excitement that his partner sounded trashed. Dana Katherine Scully was drunk and suddenly he couldn't get dressed fast enough.

"Mhm, we're at a bar called Lucky Lou's," she answered, giggling at something.

She gave him a few brief instructions and within a few minutes of hanging up he was on the road. In all their years of partnership and friendship he'd never ever seen Scully drunk. He'd seen her after a glass of wine or two, flush faced, smirking, a little more touchy than usual, but it never went beyond that. He'd be lying if he didn't say the thought of seeing his usually reserved partner completely inebriated thrilled him. It was all he could think about as he sped over to her.

He walked into the aforementioned bar less than ten minutes after getting the phone call, and found Scully almost instantaneously. He seemed to have a knack for that, and he always wondered if it was all those I Spy games he did growing up or if it was from years of looking at her. He'd blame it on the former though he knew it was the latter.

She looked the same as she had when she'd left earlier, only a few more buttons were undone on her blouse, revealing the milky sides of her breasts and teasing the cups of her bra. Her hair seemed different too, a little more tousled and mussed than usual. He didn't have much longer to give her a visual inventory before her eyes locked onto his. He also didn't have a second to question if she actually was drunk because the glossy, unfocused look in her eyes was answer enough. Even if it hadn't been, the accompanied squeal of "Muhlder!" followed by her throwing herself on him in a hug solidified it.

He lightly brought his hands up and placed them on her back. "Hello to you too, Scully," he laughed.

She kept her arms around his neck, but took a step back so she could look up at him with a beaming smile. His heart felt like it was in a vice when she stared up at him in adoration. He couldn't ever remember seeing her so carefree or happy and it was almost overwhelming to know he was the cause of it. "You came!"

Goosebumps broke out all over his body as he felt her playing with the fine hair at the base of his skull, raking her nails against his scalp soothingly. "Of course," he replied, pulled away at the sound of her friend approaching them.

As he glanced over to see the brunette stumbling towards them, he caught sight of a man in the corner with his eyes trained on Scully. Before he could give it much thought, he was pulled back by Scully sinking back down to the ground and sliding her hands down to his chest. "Is it o-okay if we bring Karen home?" she slurred adorably.

"Absolutely. Nice to see you again," he told the also-giggly woman, offering an arm to each of them since they both seemed a little unsteady on their feet.

"Thanks for comin'," Karen hiccuped.

"How much did you guys have to drink?" he asked, not caring to hide his smile.

"Umm," Scully drew out comically.

"Well we had a few long islands," her friend piped up.

"A few?" he asked in surprise.

"And those shots of Jager," Scully added.

"And that guy bought a round of beers when the Cardinals won," Karen replied.

"Was that before or after the Cranberry Vodkas?"

"Oh my god," Mulder laughed. No wonder they were so out of it. He was surprised they could even stand.

"Hey, we're Irish," Scully uncharacteristically giggled in defense as she whipped the passenger door open with unneeded force.

He helped ease her friend in before getting into the car himself. He asked for her address and a few rudimentary directions later, they were on there way. Luckily it was only a few minutes out and he'd be able to get back to the motel relatively soon. Scully shifted with the radio for a few moments before finding an old rock station that suited her tastes, gently humming along in her endearingly off-key way until a voice from behind interrupted.

"D-Dana, you were so right," her all-too open friend confided, drawing out the 'so' for far longer than necessary to emphasize her point.

" 'bout what?" Scully asked, lazily trying to look at her.

"Your partner really is sex personified," she slurred, and he felt her hit the back of his seat to make sure Scully knew who she was talking about. He felt his face grow hot at this information he was sure he hadn't been meant to hear. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that Scully went around gossiping that she thought he was attractive. Sex personified.

Scully gasped and whirled around to face her fully, ignoring how the seatbelt was digging into her skin. "Shhh, he's right there," she whispered poorly, as if herself forgetting that he was right there.

"I mean-I'm jus' sayin' it makes total sense why you'd wanna f-"

"Karen!" Scully screamed in his ear, cutting off the sentence Mulder'd give anything to hear the end of. Then, in as comprised of a manner as she could manage at this time, she turned to him and calmly stated, "She's confused."

He bit back his smile and nodded at the severity of her tone, not wanting her to think he was laughing at her, even though he definitely was. "Oh I imagine that many drinks may cause a little more than confusion."

"Mhm," Scully nodded firmly.

"Are you both comfortable? Do either of you need anything?" he asked, remembering that car rides sometimes weren't the best for the inebriated and he'd rather not spend the night cleaning vomit out of the upholstery.

"Wow," Karen exhaled, falling back into her seat to emphasize her disbelief. "You didn' tell me he was such a gen-gentleman. What a nice change from the guy hittin' on you earlier," she giggled.

Mulder's initial response to the compliment was overshadowed by his still lingering concern. "The guy earlier?" he asked, turning to Scully to gauge a reaction, but receiving a dismissive eye roll instead.

"It was nothing," she exclaimed, flapping her hand in the air.

"Nothing?" Karen piped up. "I wouldn' call having my ass grabbed nothing."

"Someone touched you?" he balked, gripping the wheel with unnecessary force.

"He was tryin' to take her home before I called you."

He suddenly remembered the man at the bar who'd been leering at Scully when he'd gotten there. "What else did he do?" he asked, turning to Scully who still looked like she couldn't care less about this conversation.

"Nothing," Scully whined. "He just told me I was hot."

"Then she told him she had a husband, but not before he kissed her."

"He kissed you?" he exclaimed, raising his voice and half contemplating turning around to go back to the bar and finding this guy.

"It doesn't matter, when I told him my husband was comin' to pick me up he left," she explained with a coy smile.

"Was that before or after he grabbed you?" Mulder asked, not really thinking it made a difference aside from the fact he wanted to know.

"Before, but then you came," she beamed, hugging his arm and placing a kiss to his bicep as if he was actually the husband she passed him off as. While he felt disgusted and angered that someone was trying to take advantage of her while she clearly couldn't consent, there was really nothing he could do about it now. Looking down he saw Scully resting her head on his arm with a lazy grin and he decided it was probably better to just drop it.

"Are you okay?" he asked, making sure before he let it go.

"He just annoyed me, nothin' bad. I knew you were coming so I knew I'd be fine," she murmured, nuzzling him slightly. The sentiment made him blush and he decided he liked cuddly-drunk Scully.

"What street did you say to turn on?" he asked when he started to get to the end of her instructions.

"Oh, umm…" she paused, "Right here." Mulder quickly turned with barely any notice and pulled onto a dim road, following her haphazard pointing until he was in her driveway.

"Do you need any help getting in?" he asked, already preparing to take off his seatbelt.

"No, no, thank you. My own husband is up there waiting." Sure enough, when Mulder looked, he saw a man standing on the porch to meet her. "Night Night Dana!" she exclaimed before slamming the door shut and, for the first time that night, leaving him alone with Scully.

He didn't pull out until she was safe in the house, and then he made his way back to the main road. "She seemed nice," he said, breaking the silence.

"Mhm, I forgot how much she likes to drink," she slurred, kicking off her heels carelessly.

He couldn't help but let his curiosity get the best of him, figuring if she remembered him asking in the morning she'd be too embarrassed to call him out. "Did you actually tell her I was your husband?"

She let out a little pfft sound and explained, "Well, I mean, you practically are." She let her hands flop in front of her as if to emphasize the 'fact' she was saying.

"Oh really?" he prompted with a grin.

"Well, I mean, we do all sortsa stuff together. An' we're so close, we don' do all the fun stuff, but we do everything else that married couples do." She paused for a moment then leaned a little closer to him, analyzing something he wasn't sure of. "Does that make you uncomfortable?"

"No, not at all. Just surprised," he told her honestly.

"I'd just called you my partner until that guy was being weird. Then it just came out," she said while playing with the hem of her skirt, revealing a bit more of her creamy thigh than he was used to.

Not wanting to rehash something that might upset her, he changed the subject. "Aside from being harassed by that guy, did you have a good night with your friend?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered with hesitation, shrugging her shoulders.

"Yeah?" he mimicked unconvinced.

"I missed you," she admitted in a quiet voice as she fiddled with her thumbs.

"I missed you too," he smiled.

She grabbed the console in between then and lifted herself up so she was sitting rather than slouching in the seat. "I like hanging out with you, an-and I feel like I took that away tonight. The 'hole time I was jus' thinking of you," she revealed as if she was mad at herself.

"It's okay, Scully," he soothed comfortingly. "I like hanging out with you too. We get to hang out all the time though, you never get to see your friend. I bet she enjoyed being able to catch up with you."

"You're right," she said, and he wished more than anything he had recorded that moment because he was sure it was one of the only times in his life he'd ever hear Dana Scully say that.

"We can hang out tomorrow," he offered.

With sudden enthusiasm "I know something we could do tonight."

He laughed at the excitement in her tone and indulged her, "Oh really? What?"

"Have you ever gotten road head, Mulder?" she asked suddenly, making his brain short-circuit at the knowledge she even knew what that was, let alone that she was asking him about it right now.

"W-what?" he squeaked.

His distress seemed to amuse her because she leaned closer to him. She put her hand on his upper thigh and he could feel all five digits burning through the fabric. "Road head? Ya know? Getting a blowjob while driving?" As the questioning progressed, so did her hand's progression to the front of his pants. It was so distracting, he didn't notice the speed bump until it was the catalyst for Scully's hand to hit its intended mark, making him groan loudly and shoot one hand down to grab her wrist.

"Um, no," he strained, taking her hand off his crotch and placing it on her lap.

He stared straight ahead at the expanse of highway and silently tried to calculate how long it'd take until they reached the motel and not focus on the fact that Scully'd just touched his penis. He started in his seat when he felt her chin rest on his arm as she poorly-whispered in a husky voice that he knew would haunt his dreams, "Want to?" She placed her hand on his chest and was slowly rubbing it down towards the front of his pants and stroking the bulge that was rowing from her attention.

He gasped and tucked his hips in towards the seat and away from her hand. "Scully," he warned lamely. It was hard to sound stern when your voice cracked.

"Come on," she prompted with a breathy whine, tucking her fingers in between his legs to rub circles onto his inner thigh.

He felt his erection growing uncomfortably hard, uncomfortably fast, and he knew he had to stop this soon. "Scully, you're drunk," he stated, shucking her hand away.

"So?" she pouted. Luckily for him, she sank back in her seat instead of pressing forward again. "What's the saying? The drunk mouth speaks the truths of the sober heart?"

"I think you just made that up."

"But it sounds real doesn't it?" she laughed.

Before he could formulate a response, the neon blue sign became visible in the distance. Thank god, he thought to himself. "He we're almost there," he told her, hoping the prospect of sleep would appeal to her drunken sensibilities.

"Thank god," she groaned and he felt himself calming down. It'd all get easier from here. He'd get her in her room, he'd leave the adjoining door open so he could make sure she didn't try to leave or accidentally hurt herself, and he'd-

Fuck.

In his distraction over dealing with drunk Scully, he completely and utterly forgot about the room situation. On a normal basis the sleeping arrangement made him nervous, and that was with a completely sober Scully who kept her hands to herself. Now he had a completely wasted Scully who was looking at him with bedroom eyes while licking her lips. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He pulled into the parking space in front of their room and reluctantly turned off the car. He tentatively glanced into the back seat and tried to imagine how uncomfortable it would be if he curled up and slept there. The thought died as soon as Scully opened her door and all but fell onto the gravel. There was no way he could leave her to her own devices in this state.

"Shit, Scully. Are you alright?" he called out, hastily unfastening his seatbelt and running around to the other side of the car.

She'd rolled over onto her back and was giggling up at him, completely unaffected by her tumble. "Muller, the world's spinning," she laughed.

"Let's get you inside, okay?" he said gently, bending down and wrapping his arms around her in an effort to haul her up. It surprised him all the time just how light she was. To him she was the embodiment of strength, yet realistically he could pick her up and hoist her over his shoulder with ease. Which, honestly, he wasn't far off from doing. He couldn't tell if she was just that far gone or if she genuinely was having a hard time walking. All he did know was that she seemed to be relying on him to carry most of her body weight.

With some struggle, he was able to half-walk, half-carry her to the door. While they were both inside and he was trying to lock the deadbolt, he felt her arms slip around his middle as she nuzzled her face in between his shoulder blades. Apparently the affection had followed her in and she wasn't going to let up. "Alone at last," she slurred.

He turned around nervously, avoiding the sensation of her breasts rubbing against him as he did so. God, she's stunning. It was like a constant mantra in his head as he looked at her, much closer and much more intimately than he was used to. If it wasn't for the devious gleam in her eye, she'd look serene and peaceful. Mulder cleared his throat nervously and tried to pry her arms away. "I think we should try to get you to bed." She smiled and went to respond but he beat her to it, "To sleep."

The smile turned comically into a pout and her hands slid their way back up to intertwined around the back of his neck. "I'm not tired."

"I think you are," he responded lamely, just trying to ignore how flush her body was to his in this moment. He was sure if she focused she'd be able to feel his heart beating rapidly against her chest.

"Mulder," she sighed, looking almost dejected. "How long are you going to make me wait?"

He wasn't sure what she meant by that, but he wasn't sure this was the best time for him to find out. With a significant lack of grace, he detangled himself from her arms and walked over to the bed. "Let's get your pyjamas, okay?"

"Wait!" she exclaimed, making him stop and turn around.

He stared at her for a moment as she haphazardly grabbed at her abdomen, and he wasn't sure what she was doing until she started pulling at her shirt. "I need to get this off first."

He averted his eyes as soon as the hem of her shirt slipped out the top of her skirt and he looked around at the floor for her purple duffle bag. "Okay, you do that while I find your clothes."

His attempt to ignore her disrobing process was cut short when he heard something slam against the wall. Looking up, he realized it was her hip falling against the nightstand. "Whoa, Scully. You okay?" he asked in concern.

"Help me," she demanded in a defeated whine, clearly displeased at not being able to do this herself.

He chastised himself for how absolutely and completely nervous this prospect made him, but he pushed down the feeling and walked around so that he was closer to her. "What do you need help with?"

"Can you undo these?" she asked, lazily grabbing at the buttons of her shirt.

His mouth dropped open to respond, but instead he just weakly nodded and brought shaky hands up to the middle of her shirt, right in between the valley of her breasts. How many times had he imagined this? He could smell her perfume radiating off her as she swayed lightly in place. Her shirt was warm from her skin and he couldn't help but stroke his thumb tenderly across it as he tried to distract himself from the delicate, ivory skin being revealed to him. She was so beautiful it made his breath catch in his throat.

When the last button was done, he went to back up, but was stopped by her placing a hand on his shoulder. "An' my skirt," she requested.

He placed his fingers underneath the hem at her sides, but she shook her head. He took that as a sign she had a zipper that needed to be undone, and with a sigh he felt around her sides. During this, she'd taken the initiative to walk a little closer into his arms, so much so that her body heat was practically radiating onto his skin and he felt like he was holding a flame. Her hair grazed against his chin and he could feel her breath coming out in small pants onto his collarbone. He needed to find this damn zipper before she felt his erection stab her abdomen.

He slid his hands under her shirt and felt the back of her skirt, relieved when he felt his fingers graze the metal of her zipper. In the process of doing this, her shirt slid off her shoulders, revealing her smooth, freckled shoulders. The only thing holding her shirt up was his forearms, but when he unzipped her skirt and helped it fall to the floor as she stepped out of it, she was left in just her matching bra and underwear.

A flush had spread across her chest and her cheeks and he wasn't sure if he could even blame it on the alcohol. "Can you take over from here?" he asked, hoping she wouldn't notice the strain in his voice or his pants.

"I suppose," she sighed dramatically. However, instead of moving to take off any of her clothes, she turned around and crawled onto the bed. In doing so, Mulder got a full view of her sensually leaning over and an even better view of her voluptuous ass as it swayed back and forth while she crawled to the middle.

Then she plopped down on her back, looking at him through her parted thighs, and patted a spot on the bed next to her. "Come 'ere."

His body ached to do just that, the desire almost like a magnetic pull, but he resisted. Instead, shaking his head and moving around to the other side of the bed where he had been earlier.

He felt her burning a hole in his side with the intensity of her gaze, but he resisted looking over at her. Through his periphery though, he saw her scoot up so that she was closer to him and sitting with her ass on the backs of her calves.

"Wha's that feel like?" she slurred, swaying lightly on the bed as she tried to sit still.

For being so drunk, her mind was working a mile a minute and he couldn't keep up. "What's what feel like?"

"That!" she exclaimed, extending her index finger out exaggeratedly with a raised arm. He followed her directions and his mortification only continued when he realized she was pointing straight at his persistent erection. His mouth dropped open to explain himself, but he hadn't thought of the words yet so it just resulted in his gaping and stammering like the fool he felt.

Scully didn't seem to be focusing on that though. Instead, she was staring intently at the tent in his pants before boldly leaning forward and grasping it in her lithe, albeit clumsy, hand. Her touch felt just as electric as the first time, and he felt himself biting harshly down on his bottom lip to avoid giving her any more affirmation than the twitch of his cock in her hand.

Unfortunately that was enough to send her into a fit of giggles as she started palming his length in her hand. God, it felt incredible. "You moved," she teased with a breathy chuckle, giving him a firm squeeze as if to provoke the response again. "I know why, the blood buildin' up in both the cy-cylindrical chambers," she recited, stroking her thumb in a line with a clear understanding of the part of his anatomy that was currently taking his away ability to understand anything that wasn't how good he felt in her hand. How much he'd always wanted to-

"No," he panted, grabbing her wrist and pulling himself from her hold. He tasted blood and he realized it was coming from the incisor imprint on his swollen lip. It was as if the suddenness of his movement took a moment to catch up with her and she lazily took her eyes off his now throbbing hard on and looked up at him with those big blue eyes, her dark makeup only serving to make them even more piercing than normal. A confused expression littered her face and she pouted her lip comically in offense. It crossed his mind that in this moment she looked, and she'd kill him if she even knew he thought it, she looked cute.

"It's jus' human anatomy, Muller," she whined as her wrist pulled on his in an attempt to return to where she wanted.

He let go but took a step back so that her hand fell unaccomplished onto the bed. "I'll take a lesson later," he coughed, backing up more and tripping on his own suitcase in an attempt to get a fresh breath of air that wasn't tainted by either the intoxicating smell of her or by the sexual tension permeating the room.

"You didn' answer my question," she stated rather adamantly for how drunk she was.

He stepped on her bag and remembered what his whole goal in this moment had actually been. He picked it up and set it on the bed ceremoniously, eager to have a task to take his mind off his wanton partner. "What question?"

"What's it feel like?"

"I think you just felt-"

"Nooo," she emphasized, dragging out the word. "What's it feel like? I don' have one."

Oh, I know, he thought to himself. Despite his best efforts his eyes flickered over to her underwear clad center and couldn't help but think of what was beneath that thin fabric. He swallowed despite his throat's protest when his eyes caught a glimpse of a damp wet spot blossoming onto the cotton covering her crotch. His eyes travelled up, taking an appreciative note of the valleys and curves of her body before locking his eyes with her mischievous ones. "Uh, um," he coughed. "Good," he offered. Painful , his dick added silently as it strained against his zipper.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed, rolling her eyes and falling backwards onto the bed, her breasts bouncing dangerously in the bra cups trying to restrain them. "Arousals don' just feel good , Muldey."

"Really good," he responded, unzipping her bag.

"I imagine it throbs. Like a clit. Does your dick throb?" she asked, losing her eloquence with her sobriety.

"Sometimes." He was giving short detached answers as he searched every pocket of her overnight bag, desperate to find something for her to sleep in.

"Sometimes I jus' feel so-so swollen, 'nd I jus' get so wet, like dripping wet. All I wanna do is jus' grind into somethin' or someone or someMuller," she explained, laughing heartily at her own play on words.

His hands froze as he tried to pretend he was anywhere else. That he wasn't currently in the world's smallest fucking hotel room, that his beautiful partner wasn't lying in the bed they'd share talking about his penis and her arousal, that she didn't just grab what his mind knows he just grabbed.

Scully seemed to sense his shock and she haphazardly catapulted herself forward and fell onto her hands, looking into the bag his hands were in. "Did ya find somethin' good?"

"Where are your pyjamas?" he asked, trying to push the phallic object out of view.

No such luck.

Scully, in an earnest attempt to be helpful, reached her own hand into the bag and immediately found what he'd just hidden. Pulling her vibrator out with a triumphant smile, she exclaimed, "Look!" As if he had anything more interesting to look at than Scully brandishing the sex toy in front of his face like a sword.

"It's very nice. Where are your pyjamas?" he repeated, swallowing hard.

Suddenly a buzzing sound filled the air and, even though he'd been trying to ignore her, it became impossible when she pressed the tip of the toy to his own tip. He gasped and backed up, earning a laugh from her. "Come on, I just wanna see if I got the right size."

"What?" he asked, apparently that was all he really knew how to say tonight.

"When I wen' to the store, I wanted to find something close to you. It helped me imagine better," she explained.

"Imagine better?"

"Oh please, like you don't," then, instead of saying the word, she wrapped her fingers around the girth of the toy, put it near her crotch as if it was an erect penis, then proceeded to mime jacking off. Then continuing, "to the thought of us."

Surely he hit his head earlier. That was truly the only explanation for this now. Never in a sane world would Scully be sitting in just her underwear in front of him with her vibrator in hand, all but admitting to masturbating at the thought of them being together.

"Of course I do," he whispered, figuring she wouldn't remember in the morning any how.

Then the buzzing stopped as she tossed the toy back into the bag, wrapping her arms around him instead and looking at him with those wide, lust-filled eyes again. "Then why can't we jus' satisfy some mutual curiosities?" she asked with feigned innocence.

"Because, Scully. You're drunk and I would never forgive myself if I took advantage of you," he responded, looking into her eyes to convey his sincerity, but ended up getting lost in their depths instead. God, this was Scully. Her face was so close to his and he could even smell the remnant of a sweet drink on her breath as it warmed his lips.

"But I want you so much," she whispered with so much intensity it surprised him.

He was so shocked by her words, he didn't have enough time to deflect her as she closed the distance between them, letting her lips crash down on him with a desperate force. She was so soft. That's all he could think of. Her lips felt like plush cushions against his own, and he could feel the rise and fall of her body with her rapid breaths against his torso. She placed a hand on the back of his head as her wet tongue prodded at his bottom lip and her pubic mound ground torturously against his now practically intolerable erection.

He stepped back as if he was burned and she just stayed kneeling on the bed as she tried to catch her breath. He did another appreciative sweep of her body and saw, both to his appreciation and pain, that her nipples were hard as rocks against the material of her bra.

"Scully, we can't," he whispered.

She fell back onto her butt and pouted her lip again. "No fair," she murmured, though it sounded like defeat more than an argument.

Taking that as a good sign, he just pulled anything that felt smooth out from the bag, and luckily it was an old T-shirt. "Do you want to sleep in this?" he asked.

She nodded and he started to roll the shirt up so it'd be easier to slide over her. As he took a step forward she softly slurred, "Wait." Then, to his chagrin, she reached behind her and effortlessly threw off her bra, revealing her supple breasts to him. They were better than he could have ever imagined and it took all his will power not to ogle her. "You can touch them if you want," she offered with a smile, leaning back a bit so they bounced lightly on her chest. Jesus fucking Christ.

"Maybe later," he said and internally hoped. He ignored the way they perked up as she raised her arms over her head, letting him drape the shirt over her body, relieved when she was finally covered up.

She gently touched her chest through the fabric, not lewdly, just seemingly out of comfort as she laid back on the bed. "I'm holdin' you to that," she yawned, pointing at him.

He laughed lightly and bent down to grab the hem of the blanket before pulling it over her half-naked form. "You do that," he placated with a smile. Now that the situation had de-escalated, he could resume enjoying how open Scully was when she was drunk. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she tried to suppress another yawn.

He started walking away to his side of the bed, but she drunkenly misunderstood and sat upright in the bed. "Hey, why aren't you l-laying by me?" she asked accusatorily.

"I am, Scully," he reassured. I'm just using my own side of the bed." He took off his shirt and he heard her gasp. When his vision was cleared he saw she was staring intently at his torso, yet again licking her lips.

"Keep going G-Man," she teased as he started unbuttoning his pants.

"This is sexual harassment," he teased, earning a drunken eye roll.

She didn't say anything in response, just watched as he dropped his pants, refusing to stand up straight in fear of revealing his still present hard-on. He stretched and turned off the light before crawling under the covers with her, leaving a respectable amount of space between their bodies.

He laid with his back on the mattress and closed his eyes hoping that if Scully thought he was asleep that she'd give up. Of course, not even while she was drunk would Scully let him get away with trying to pull a fast one on her. "You aren't even gonna kiss me goodnight?" she chastised with a cluck of her tongue.

With a sigh, he rolled to his side and pressed his lips to the smooth skin of her cheek chastely. "Good night, Scully," he said as if talking to a petulant child, his lips still burning from having touched her.

Instead of reciprocating, he felt her slide her thigh over his hip and pulling herself up so that she was sitting on top of him, her warm arousal pressing excruciatingly on his own. "Scully," he groaned between gritted teeth, grabbing her hips.

He couldn't see her since his eyes hadn't adjusted, but he felt her lean down and bracket his head with her forearms. Her torso fell flat on his and he could feel her nipples straining against the thin cotton of her shirt that was acting as the only barrier between their naked bodies. She rocked her hips lightly against his a few times, rubbing herself along his length. "Mulder," she whispered his name like a prayer, tightening her legs lightly against the sides of his hips.

He used his strength to roll over and effectively knock her back onto the bed so they were lying on their sides facing each other. Now he could see her face lit up by the blue moonlight streaming through the blinds. Her lips were swollen and slightly parted with heaving breath. "Why not?" she asked.

"You mean too much to me," he responded earnestly. "This means too much."

She nodded lightly in reluctant acceptance and nodded, an intense yawn breaking up the serene look on her face. "Besides," he added with a smile. "You're too tired for what I'd have in store for you."

She closed her eyes and chuckled softly behind closed lips. "Will you at least hold my hand?" she requested as her fingers twitched near her face.

"Here," he offered. "Turn around."

She did as he asked until her back was to him. Then, he reached over her so that his arm was around her abdomen and pulled her closer to him. She backed up against him and nuzzled herself into a comfortable fit. Her head was tucked under his chin and his erection was still pressed against her lower back, but he was glad that they both seemed to decide to ignore that fact.

"Night, night. I love you Muller," she whispered, her lips so tired they could barely form the words.

He placed a kiss to the crown of her head and took a moment to enjoy the scent of her shampoo and the way her body felt as she fell asleep in his arms. It was better than all the times he'd imagined it. "I love you too."

**Part Two coming soon**


	2. There's Got To Be A Morning After

Mulder awoke to the harsh glare of fluorescent lights reflecting _3:54 a.m. _on his eyelids and the unusual shifting of a body in his arms. He cracked his eyes open and, through the darkness of the room, he saw Scully rolling her head back and forth in an attempt to...he wasn't sure.

Despite his exhaustion, he leaned up so he was resting on an elbow to get a better view of her. Her makeup was running at the outer edges and her full lips were tugging downward in a sad frown. Raising a hand to her hairline, he gently brushed back the unruly bangs that were covering her forehead, only to reveal the skin there was bunched together in distress as well.

Fearing she was having a nightmare he tentatively whispered, "Scully?" As much as he loved this feeling of having her laying sprawled in his arms, her bare legs completely flush and entangled with his own, he was willing to risk it to get her out of a bad dream. "Scully," he spoke louder, nudging her lightly with his right thigh.

Her eyes shot opened and locked with his but, instead of seeing any recognition or coherence, he saw blind panic. "Scul-" he started, only to have her jump out of his arms and off the bed like it was on fire. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she started stumbling to the bathroom. Stumbling in the most literal definition of the word. She almost fell when her feet were tangled in the bedsheet, she bumped her hip hard against the night stand, and she all but collapsed when she got onto the tile.

Within seconds, he was up and running to her, concern lacing his voice, "Hey, are you alright?" When he reached her and saw her frail form hunched over the toilet it all made sense. Kneeling down so he was right behind her, he gathered her hair gently in one hand as he rubbed small circles onto the thin cotton of her t-shirt, the warmth of her skin radiating onto his hand. "That's it, let it out," he soothed as Scully heaved into the porcelain.

Retching sounds filled the room as the drinks from last night hit the toilet bowl. He felt her back concaving with the force of it and that, mixed with the little sounds of distress that would leave her lips between bouts, made him wish he could take her place. He was amazed that so much fluid could even come out of one little body, and the lack of substance coming up made him realize why she was so absolutely out of it last night. She hadn't eaten anything to absorb the alcohol. He silently cursed himself for not offering to get her anything as she continued spitting into the toilet.

He'd never been one to be disgusted by vomit and he'd never been more thankful for that fact than he was now. Scully had seen him at his worst more times than he could count and the opportunity to dote on her for a change was one he couldn't pass up, regardless of the fact he knew she'd hate that he saw her this way in the morning.

After a minute or two, the heaving subsided and she laid her cheek against the rim of the toilet seat, a move that he knew sober-Scully would be disgusted with. He placed a hand on her side and put some pressure on it to get her to move. "Hey, Scully, let's sit against the wall okay?" he requested kindly.

"Mhm," she agreed weakly, crawling on her hands and knees to the wall, only to slump against it like a sack of potatoes. "MulderIfeelsobad," she mumbled from her slouched position.

Laughing lightly at how miserable she sounded, he damped a washcloth and then nudged her to sit up, which she did with some effort. When she looked at him, the pout was still on her lips, but it looked like she was done emptying her stomach. He flushed the toilet before scooting closer towards her, bringing the washcloth up to her forehead and gently wiping away the night's grime, sweat, and toilet germs from her skin.

Her eyes remained closed as he did this, seemingly comforted by the action as little sounds of contentment escaped her lips. His mother had done this for him when he was little and had a fever, taking a cool wash cloth and running it carefully up and down the valleys of his face, and while Scully's condition was vastly different it was one of the only things he could think of that might help.

"I'm miserable," she mumbled with her eyes clamped shut, slumping against the wall like a lifeless doll.

He chuckled lightly while returning the washcloth to the sink before kneeling down in front of her. "With how much you drank, I'm not surprised."

She made a little whining sound in the back of her throat and wiped her hands down her face. "The world won't stop spinning," she whimpered with so much discomfort it tugged at his heart. As comical as it was seeing her like this, he felt bad she was so miserable.

"Do you have any ibuprofen?" he asked.

She shook her head in the negative and peeked at him through the cracks between her fingers. "Do you?" she asked with a hopeful lilt in her inflection.

"No, I'm sorry Scully." Her frown seemed to grow impossibly deeper as she let her head fall back against the tub. "But I can go check if the vending machine does," he immediately offered while quickly standing up. He'd do anything to take away her pain.

"Please Muhlder," she requested, her tongue still thick from the lingering alcohol.

"I'll be back in a few minutes. Do you want me to help get you back into bed?" he asked from the doorway, tugging his jeans up his legs in a little dance.

She shook her head again and added, "No thank you. I need to clean myself up. I'm all pukey." As she looked down at her shirt, he noticed there was a blotch of vomit that hadn't quite made it and he resisted making a face.

He wasn't all that comfortable with leaving her alone, but she seemed better off than she had a few hours ago, and she definitely did need to clean off a bit. "Okay, I'll be back as fast as I can. Scream if you need me," he said while grabbing his wallet.

"Okay," she sang. He watched her stand up with much effort, relying on the edge of the tub for balance, as he closed the door to the motel room.

Luckily the vending machine wasn't too far away, so he jogged over and was relieved to see they had a small packet of Tylenol available for two dollars. Deciding she was likely to feel this in the morning too, he bought three. However, the vending machine was clearly not used to being used, so it rejected each bill at least twice and took a good thirty seconds to actually process that money had been put in. He felt himself constantly glancing back to see he didn't even know what in the window. A fire? Scully looking out for him? Signs of distress? But all he continued seeing was the ambiguity of darkness behind closed blinds.

Within five minutes, he had all the medicine and was lightly sprinting back to the room. Upon opening the door, he was met with the sound of running water. "Scully?" he called out, shutting the door behind him. Silence was his reply and he got a little nervous. "Scully?" he repeated, walking towards the open bathroom door.

Of all the things he was expecting, he wasn't expecting to see Scully, naked in the tub, curled in a ball facing away from him. Concern flooded his body and he threw the medicine packets into the sink as he fell to the ground next to the tub. "Hey," he prompted, reaching out to touch her shoulder, ignoring her nudity entirely.

"Mmmm," she groaned, turning over to face him, giving a light glare through cracked eyelids.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I wanted to take a bath 'cause I feel gross, but I'm so tired," she mumbled, turning on her back and nuzzling into the porcelain as if it may ever give and become comfortable. She didn't even seem to care that she was completely revealing her breasts to him, once again, as well as a little tuft of auburn hair and he couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked shrouded in the blue moonlight streaming in from the window. She looked like a woman from a serene, baroque painting.

"If you sit up, I can help you and we can get you to bed faster," he offered, relieved she hadn't fallen or hurt herself.

"M'kay," she sighed, reaching a hand out to him blindly.

He grabbed her hand and gently eased her into an upright position. "Stay here for a second, okay?"

"Damn, an' I had so much else to do," she teased, letting her head loll forward onto her chest.

He grabbed a pack of Tylenol from the sink and the washcloth from earlier, noting from the water and green remnants in the sink that she must've brushed her teeth while he was gone, tearing the packet open and handing her two little white pills. "Take these."

She turned to face him, but didn't open her eyes, instead she just opened her mouth and let him plop the pills on her pink tongue. He watched in amusement as she leaned forward and lapped some water from the running faucet. "Thank you, Mulder. You're so good to me," she mumbled, sitting up right again but swaying lightly.

"I'd do anything for you Scully," he replied honestly. He grabbed the tube of liquid motel soap from the corner of the tub and lathered it onto the washcloth. Even though he had her permission, he still needed to double check, "Do you want to do this part yourself?"

She peeked over at him and smiled softly when she saw the washcloth. "No."

He gulped nervously and straddled the edge of the tub, so that one leg was on the outer tile and the other was in the tub with her. Looking down, he was met with the sight of her elegant spine in the middle of the creamy smooth expanse of her back. The water had risen, obscuring her butt like a funhouse mirror beneath the waterline.

With a deep sigh, he placed the washcloth onto her back and started rubbing small circles onto her skin. She leaned forward to give him better access, but he had to place a cautionary hand onto her shoulder to prevent her from leaning too far. "Muhlder?" she spoke, her voice distorted by the walls of the bathroom.

"Yeah?" he asked, grabbing her wrist so he could lift her arm and rub the washcloth over its length.

"Sing to me," she requested softly.

"Scully, I don't-"

"Hey, it's only fair," she reminded, an imperfect version of _Joy to the World_ coming to the forefront of his mind.

"What do you want me to sing?" he asked, working on her other arm.

"Anythin', I just wanna hear your voice."

He wished she'd asked him to just talk to her instead if that was the case, but she seemed so sick and out of it that he would have done anything she asked to make her feel better. Clearing his throat nervously, he began the first song that came to his mind.

"_It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide." _She seemed pleased by his song choice, as a little smile came to her lips.

"_I don't have much money, but boy if I did. I'd buy a big house where we both could live." _He was grateful that she kept her eyes shut because a blush erupted on his face when he realized what an intimate love song he'd chosen to sing. It made him nervous to sing it to her face, let alone do so while he was lathering soap on her naked body.

He continued singing while working the washcloth on her body, spending more time on her elbows and knees while merely swiping once across the expanse of her chest, completely ignoring the lower extremities. She must have been sobering up because sexual predator-Scully from earlier would have most definitely made a comment about that.

He stopped singing for a moment to ask her, "Did you want me to wash your hair?"

She shook her head from side to side to dismiss him. "I washed it this morning and you saved it from getting vomity," she replied, offering her hand to him so she could stand up. "Keep singing," she demanded lightly as the water ran down her body.

"_I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do. My gift is my song and this one's for you." _As he moved into the chorus, she started mumble-singing along with him, sounding about just as good as she did sober. He helped her step out of the tub before wrapping a fluffy towel around her middle, tucking it under her elbow.

In doing so, his arms had been wrapped around her and Scully took it as an opportunity to take a step forward and wrap her own arms around him. He thought she was swaying from residual inebriation until he realized she was attempting to dance. He'd stopped everything he was doing in surprise while she continued unfazed, looking up to him, resting her chin on his chest as she sweetly sang, "_How wonderful life is, now you're in the world."_

She prodded him with her chin for emphasis when she sang 'you're' before a wide smile spread across her face. The look of pure sincerity and love she was giving him right now took the breath from his lungs and he was suddenly struck at how weird this moment was. He'd just given Scully a bath after a night of drinking and now they were dancing and singing Elton John together. Somehow he wasn't surprised, they never seemed to play by the book.

"Um, let's get you to bed," he chuckled breathlessly, slightly overwhelmed with emotion.

"Okay," she replied softly, letting her arms fall from his waist as she walked past him. He watched as she trudged into the room and looked for her bag, making a small declaration of triumph when she did so.

The towel dropped and he quickly averted his gaze, letting her have some privacy. He chose to drain the tub and clean up a little bit and was glad to see she had a new t-shirt on and was laying in bed when he returned to the room. She raised a hand out to him and requested, "Come 'ere."

He did as he was told and tucked himself under the sheets next to her. Immediately she started scooting closer to him and he said her name warningly. "Please Mulder," she sighed, scooting so her front was flush with his side. "I just want you to hold me. It's not like it's the worst thing I've done to you tonight." Her tone sounded like she was already chastising herself and he started to feel bad for her for how much she was going to be beating herself up in the morning. Deciding this was the least he could do for her now, he turned onto his side so he was facing her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him.

It was almost a Scully-sensory overload and he decided this is what his personal version of heaven was. Scully's soft breath tickling his skin while her warm body pressed flush against his own. "Thank you," she murmured, voicing the same sentiment he wanted to give to her.

She fell asleep relatively soon thereafter whereas he laid awake for at least another hour, enjoying the sensations he wasn't sure he'd ever feel again.

Of all the times he'd imagined waking up to Scully laying next to him, she hadn't quite had such a look of pensive displeasure on her face. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and stretched on the bed, acutely aware of the fact he was erect but figuring she probably already knew. "Good morning," he exhaled, trying to read her face for some indication into how she was feeling.

"I am so, so sorry, Mulder," she lamented with the utmost severity.

"No need, we've all been there," he dismissed, smiling at her softly.

"Oh really? I don't ever recall having to give you a bath because you were too wasted to do it yourself," she sardonically replied. He was pleased to note that, even though she was clearly embarrassed, she hadn't pulled the usual Scully routine of avoiding him. He honestly expected to wake up to an empty bed, Scully dressed, tight-lipped, and ready to leave. Instead, she was still here and currently making his arm fall asleep as she used it as a pillow.

"Well I don't recall ever having to nurse you back to health after you risked your life doing something stupid, but you do it for me all the time," he shrugged, turning onto his side so he was facing her and slightly more in her personal space.

Mulder was surprised when, instead of turning away, she turned on her side and faced him, nuzzling into the bed. "I'm your doctor," she shrugged as if they were both were to accept it was as simple as that when they both knew it wasn't.

"And I care about you," he shrugged with the same implication.

She smiled one of those sweet smiles that made him feel like she was beaming all the power of the sun at him. Then she closed her eyes and let her face fall into the crook of his elbow she was resting on before whispering "thank you." Her warm breath felt like a kiss and it made all the hair on his arm stand up.

"Of course," he whispered, not trusting his voice enough to speak at full volume, worried the sound alone would break the intimate tranquility of this morning serenity.

"I'm still embarrassed," she mumbled.

"Why?"

She peeked a blue eye open at him and deadpanned, "Why?"

"You just had fun, Scully-"

"I told you we might as well be married, I offered you roadhead, I threw myself at you, I kissed you, you had to clean up my vomit, give me a bath, and those are just the highlights," she recited, displeasure growing with each item listed. A pink blush slowly started to spread across her freckled cheeks as she recalled each event vividly. "I'm so sorry," she repeated again, covering her face with her hands.

"Hey," he laughed, tugging lightly on her forearm until he could see her again. "I'm surprised you remember it all."

"So that's truly it? I'm not forgetting anything?" she mumbled, glaring at him fearfully.

"Well you didn't mention the mini-lap dance or the singing, but those were also quite memorable," he teased, knowing she wouldn't want to be in the dark.

He immediately regretted his candor when her lips tugged downward and her eyes squeezed shut. "That's so embarrassing," she choked, sitting up abruptly.

"Scully, you're being dramatic," he comforted, placing a hand on her back as he sat up with her. She didn't say anything, but he heard a sniffle and his heart broke. So, naturally, he started rambling like an idiot in an effort to comfort her. "Scully, you've seen me naked," he blurted.

"Wait, what?" she said, taken aback by his declaration. She turned to look at him and he could see the initial tears had left tracks down her face.

"You've seen me naked before, and I'd seen you naked before this anyway-" She opened her mouth and he quickly added, "Antarctica," answering the question she didn't get a chance to ask. "So really, we're just even. Also, you've taken care of me more times than I can count and _I know_ you're my doctor, but what you've had to do was a lot more strenuous than merely laying in bed, flushing a toilet, or helping me take a bath."

"Oh my god," she groaned at the reminder, letting her head droop down in shame.

"Scully, you've seen me in the bath under less than favorable circumstances, you've had to change me, and you yourself even sang to me at my request. Please don't be embarrassed. Your drunken mischief still isn't even as bad as my sober decisions." He comforted, rubbing circles onto the thin fabric covering her back, trying his hardest to put the knowledge that he was touching where her bra should have been, but most definitely wasn't, out of his mind.

"BuIgrbedou," she mumbled, her voice distorted from the bend of her neck.

"I'm sorry. I'm not fluent in that language."

She let out a little huff of laughter before turning infinitesimally to the side in an attempt to face him. "But I grabbed you," she lamented clearly this time.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Of course she did, she couldn't even stand up st-_oh. Grabbed_ him.

"In all technicality I assaulted you," she said so softly it sounded like a confession of murder.

He realized that was what was bothering her most of all, the fact he made it clear he hadn't wanted her advances, _in that moment_, but she'd continued anyway. If the situation had been reversed and he'd gotten drunk and touched her, ground himself on her, he'd never stop torturing himself. The mere thought filled him with dread and the absolute misery on her face made sense.

But it was unneeded. Everything that'd happened were the type of intimacies he'd always dreamed of having with her, albeit not the drunk aspect. She had to know he loved her, but he didn't know how to express the fact it didn't bother him without sounding like he got off on her drunkenly touching him.

"Scully," he prompted, trying to get her to look at him. It was unsuccessful. "Do you remember what I said?"

"You were pacifying me to spare my feelings," she replied.

"When have I ever done that?" he joked sincerely.

She laughed and it was the best sound he could have ever hoped for. Taking it as a good sign he continued, "I cannot stress to you enough how much I didn't mind last night. Nothing you did bothered me."

"How can you even look at me?" she asked, not as severely as the question implied. She was fully turning to him now, her nose red from running and her eyes bright with tears; and still she was the epitome of beauty. He wanted to tell her that, when she was the sight next to him, looking at her was all he'd ever want to do.

"It's one of my favorite things to do." She glanced at him to try and find any signs he was making fun of her but found none, resulting in a shy smile breaking out on her face which she quickly tried to suppress.

"Thank you," she whispered, reaching out to grab his hand and give it an appreciative squeeze, but he held onto her fingers when she went to pull away.

He shrugged and resisted saying 'I'd do anything for you.' Instead, settling on a less dramatic, "It was noth-."

"No," she interrupted, looking at him with conviction for the first time since waking up. "Thank you. It would have been so easy for you to let me do whatever I wanted and have blamed it on me in the morning."

"I could never," he blurted, making her smile and squeeze his hand again.

"Exactly, because you're a great man, Mulder. Thank you for not letting me do anything I'd regret." The word _regret _struck him a little harder than it should've and he hoped she didn't notice.

"No, no, of course not," he replied softly, bringing her hand up to press a kiss to her knuckles, resigning himself to the fact it would be these fleeting moments of affection where his lips could graze her. That last night would more than likely be the peak of his lips' life.

When he looked up she was looking at him curiously and he figured he hadn't been as subtle with his disheartenment as he'd hoped. He let her hand go and stood up with a hunch, trying to hide the still moderate erection blossoming from being so intimately close to her. "I better go get dressed. I think checkout's in a little bit," he said, motioning towards the clock while picking up his clothes by the side of the bed.

As soon as he entered the doorway to the restroom he heard her softly call out, "Hey," to get his attention.

He turned around and saw her sitting sweetly in the middle of the bed, the comforters draped near her making her look ridiculously small. She looked serious and he hoped she hadn't noticed him look down to commit the image of her nipples protruding against the thin t-shirt to his mind. "Yeah?"

"I misspoke last night," she solemnly informed him, a strange inflection in her voice.

"I think the kids nowadays call that 'slurring', Scully," he teased.

A small smile was the only indication he got that she'd heard his comment. "I didn't make it up."

"Make what up?"

"Jean-Jacques Rousseau said it. I just recited it wrong. It's 'A drunk mind speaks a sober heart'," she smiled.

He felt like a bolt of electricity had struck through him at the sly implication of her words and the coy curve of her lips. _Was she-? _"Is that so?" he asked, not even caring to hide his smile.

She nodded her head in faux-severity and added, "I happen to think I agree with him in regards to that sentiment."

"Who are we to question the great philosophers of the eighteenth century?" he asked. Of all the ways he'd fantasized about Scully coming onto him, it definitely wasn't through the use of a political philosopher, yet it couldn't have been hotter. She was admitting she agreed with everything she had said last night:

_How long are you going to make me wait?_

_I want you so much._

_I love you Muller._

It may have not been the pinnacle of Scully's usual eloquence, but she got the point across. Scully wanted him. Scully said she loved him. Suddenly the room felt hotter than before and he was afraid she could see his hands shaking. All he wanted to do was rush over and swoop her up in his arms, but he didn't know if that would be too much. She'd just hit on him in her brilliant-Scully way and all he could think of was 'God, you're so hot. I want you more than you could ever know,' and he figured that was just plain lackluster. He blamed it on the fact that most of his blood supply had left his head upon hearing her admittance.

"I'm impressed with how much you remember," he smirked, hoping she didn't take the dramatic drop in his tone as cheesy. "I just want to remind you that you promised me a human anatomy lesson. I'd like to collect on that sometime," he finished with a wink.

As he shut the door to the bathroom, he saw a predatory gleam and an unabashedly pleased grin take residence on Scully's face. His immediate worry that he'd been a little too bold was instantly quelched and he was glad to have this moment of privacy to unabashedly smile. His heart was racing and he couldn't remember the last time he'd ever felt anything like this before.

He'd just started triumphantly brushing his teeth, an emotion he never thought could quite go with that action, when he heard a soft rap at the door. He spat in the sink and all but threw his toothbrush in the corner, opening the door with one hand resting above his head on the doorframe.

Scully stood in front of him in nothing but those little black panties, her shirt, adorable bedhead, and a sexy smile. Her hands were clasped in front of her and it was the only indicator he had that she was feeling as nervous as he was. "There's forty-five minutes until check out," she informed with a hopeful lilt in her voice. She was throwing him a bone and, from the white knuckled clench of her fingers, she was hoping with all her might he'd grab it.

He corrected his mental analogy immediately. She wasn't throwing him a bone; she was throwing him a life preserver, and he hadn't even realized he was drowning until this very moment.

He took a step closer to her and tucked a strand of unruly red hair behind her ear, still slightly curling from getting wet last night. "Are you sure?" he whispered ambiguously, clearly not talking about checkout but giving her an out if this was too much.

"Yes," she whispered back, letting her gaze fall to his lips.

That was all it took for him. He reached towards her, cupped her delicate face in his hands, and kissed her like it was the last thing he'd do. She raised herself up on her tiptoes so he was at less of an awkward angle and she wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

The feeling of Scully's wet, warm tongue prodding and sliding against him was indescribable. He'd spent years staring at her rosy red lips, and now they were parted under his own, letting out light pants into his mouth as his hands left her face to snake around her back while he pulled her closer to him. She was so soft, so warm, so feminine - so _Scully._

She took him by surprise as she let one leg hook around his hip bone, then jumping up using the leverage she had on his neck, trusting that he'd catch her. He quickly adjusted his grip to accommodate her and it resulted in his hands grabbing her ass and pressing her arousal onto his lower abdomen. The jump hadn't broken their kiss very much, but her moan did. She let her head fall back as she gasped and squeezed her hips against his sides, bucking into him firmly.

He took this moment to press wet, open-mouthed kisses to her neck while he walked them over to the bed. He turned around so that he could simply allow himself to fall backwards onto the bed, enjoying the impact of her body falling on top of his. He felt a sense of deja vu as she raised herself up to bracket his head with her forearms, grinning down at him with a look of such sensuality he wasn't sure even the most talented artist in the world could begin to replicate it.

He was about to try and think of something witty or flirtatious to say when she adjusted her hips and lowered herself so that her sex was resting right on top of his arousal. They both groaned in mutual ecstacy at the sensation. His hands fell to her waist as she lowered her forehead to rest in the crook of his neck, rocking her hips tortuously so she was rubbing herself up and down his length.

"_Oh my god,_" she whimpered into his neck, yet again squeezing her thighs on either side of his hips for more friction.

His hands ran up her back lightly, dragging her shirt up suggestively and exposing her smooth back to the morning air. She got the hint and sat upright on his lap, lowering her hands to grab the hem of her shirt and pulling it off in one smooth movement that left her hair sticking out comedically.

She could have gone bald honestly and it wouldn't have distracted him from seeing her heavy, rose-tipped breasts exposed less than six inches away from his face. The shirt had barely made its descent to the floor by the time he'd rocked upwards into a sitting position, latching his mouth onto one of her turgid nipples.

She gasped loudly and it was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. Desperate to recreate it, he pulled the bud in between his lips and rolled it around gently, applying gentle bouts of pressure to gauge her reaction. He nuzzled himself closer to her and his nose and chin buried themselves in the soft skin of her breast while she squirmed fervently in his lap.

Her ministrations hit him in just the right way where he let go of her nipple to groan into her sternum as a shock of pleasure shot up his spine. He all but lifted her off his lap and, before she had a moment to question him, he tossed her onto her back and crawled on top of her. He would be damned if he came in his underwear before he even got a chance to be inside her. He had to make this good for her.

She started to move to wrap her legs around him again, but he halted her by laying on her so that his body weight pressed her into the bed, her groin just a little too high to cause any irrevocable damage. She made a small grunt of agitation, but it was quickly replaced by a whimper as he latched onto her other nipple, giving it the same attention its twin had gotten.

From the way his face was pressed against her, he could feel her heart beating rapidly against her ribs. He wasn't sure if it was arousal or nerves, but if it was the latter, he wanted to do whatever he could to calm her. He released her nipple, proud of the red wet spot encasing the precious peak, and he simply ran his cheek over the skin of her chest lovingly. "You are so beautiful," he praised, looking up to see she was staring at him with a glassy focus.

She let out a little breathy laugh before biting her lip for a moment. "This is better than I imagined," she admitted.

"Oh Scully," he chuckled. "We've only just begun."

With that, he peppered a smattering of kisses over the taut skin of her abdomen, enjoying the way the muscles beneath him quivered at his touch, not sure of where the next kiss would land. He knew he was getting to his main goal because of two major indicators; the elastic band of her underwear hitting his chin and the indescribable, aphrodisiac smell of her arousal perfuming the air. Her breathing was audible now and he decided to end her torture by placing an open-mouthed kiss to her clothed center.

"Jesus-fuck-Mulder,"she stammered, unsure of what praise to give so giving him a combination of them all. Her hips violently bucked into his face and he anchored his arms around her thighs to keep her in place. He had his face buried in Scully's crotch and he decided in this moment that if he was struck by lightning right now, he'd die the happiest man on earth.

He felt the skin around his mouth dampening and he knew it wasn't just from his own saliva. Wanting to taste her fully, he broke apart for a moment to slide her underwear off her legs, quickly resuming his place as soon as they left her foot. A cocky grin tugged on his lips at the way her entire body lurched when he removed his mouth. She didn't have to wait for long, because almost instantly his mouth was back on her, licking, lapping, and suckling.

He felt like he was playing the world's most elegant and intricate instrument and he was determined to master the art of her body. He spent time learning what would cause a hum and what would elicit a cry. How many times he'd have to flick over her sensitive nub until she was mewling and writhing against him. How deep he needed to plunge his tongue in her to make her back arch off the bed while she bucked against his face.

As soon as he started to get it down, he began building her up to a wonderful crescendo, her moans almost as constant as her pleas of "_Don't stop, don't stop, don't-"_

Then, in a sudden movement, her legs were tight against his head as she began quaking and screaming his name. He didn't let up for a moment, wanting to drag this out as long as he possibly could as he resisted the urge to come on the mattress he was currently humping like a teenager. He risked a glance up and saw she was grabbing the bedsheets in fistfuls and her mouth was gaped open, gasping for air like she'd never breathed before.

He continued until he felt a hand run through his hair and tug him away gently. He looked up and she swooped down to capture his Scully-soaked lips in a kiss. She bit lightly on his bottom lip as she tasted herself, his lips still vibrating from riding out her orgasm. He was so distracted by what a fantastic kisser Scully was that he hadn't noticed her hand moving in between them until she slipped her fingers under the band and grasped his length fully.

He groaned, not caring how loud he was as she pumped him firmly. "Oh my god, _Scully," _he gasped reverently.

She placed a kiss before whispering in his ear, "Let's not wait anymore. Please."

He looked at her and was met with a look of adoration mixed with anticipation. While he definitely could have spent more time exploring her body, his own was aching for release, and he decided it would be best to put them both out of their exquisite misery. He nodded before kissing her chastley and sliding his underwear down his legs.

"Wow," she chuckled, looking at his now fully exposed length.

Under most circumstances, having an attractive woman look at his penis, chuckle, and say 'wow', probably would have hurt his pride. However, most attractive women weren't Dana Scully, and they didn't have _that _look in their eye. He blushed before nestling himself between her spread legs. She eased herself up on her forearms and he realized she wanted to see their union just as much he did.

She brought a hand up to her mouth, letting a little dollop of spit fall onto her palm before she leaned closer to him to stroke his length a few times, lubricating it with her saliva and precum. His eyes fluttered shut at the pleasure, only to shoot back open as he felt her scootch down the bed, closer to him, and align their sexes, bringing his tip to brush against her swollen folds.

They looked down instantaneously before meeting each other's gaze, the immensity of the moment so powerful it was palpable. "Are you ready?" he asked gently.

"For a long time now," she replied with a supportive smile.

With that, he eased into her slowly, resisting the urge to close his eyes as she enveloped his cock snugly. "_Oh my god," _she breathed huskily.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, pausing halfway into her.

She shook her head, adamant that he continue. "Mulder, I'm so aroused. I promise you don't have to go slow. I'm already close."

At her encouragement, he deftly slid the remaining way in and they both groaned and undulated their hips against each other, trying to get as much friction as they possibly could. "I don't know if I've ever felt this good," she laughed, bringing her hands down to play with her breasts, much to his joy.

"I'm positive I've never felt this good," he agreed, sliding out of her almost all the way before ramming back in.

"Yeah," she gasped, back arching. "Like that."

He lowered himself a bit on the bed so that with every thrust into her, his lower abdomen rubbed tantalizingly against hers. A flush had spread all across the fair skin on Scully's chest and she was relentless with the movement of her hips, meeting him thrust for thrust without abandon.

The wet sounds of skin slapping skin began filling the room and it was borderline lewd, but absolutely erotic. It was the sound of _them_. The sound of their lovemaking, and only egged him on to give her all he had to offer.

Her hands reached up to grasp at his shoulders and he felt her breaking the skin as she clutched at him. They were both sweaty from straining, giving equal efforts to bring pleasure to the other one. "M-Mul-der," she groaned, placing a hand on his cheek to lock eyes with him.

When he did, he was overwhelmed by the teary-eyed smile she was giving him. "Kiss me," she demanded as she hooked a leg over his hip, letting him plunge impossibly deeper.

He captured her lips with his own and as soon as their tongues met, he felt her inner muscles clenching and spasming around him while she moaned his name in his mouth as he drank her arousal. Feeling the impossible divinity of Scully coming in his arms because of him, sweaty skin against sweaty skin as she gripped him for all he was worth, he came with a blinding light. They were rocking together so hard that the entire bed started to creak and the mattress was threatening to start slipping off the bed.

It was better than anything he'd ever experienced and it was then immediately rivaled by the extraordinary comfort of laying in her arms while they tried to catch their breath, littering each other with little kisses and affirmations of affection while their bodies tried to return back to normal. A normal that would probably never happen again. They'd taken this leap off the deep end and there was no going back.

They were charged a late check out fee, Mulder lost the underwear he'd all but thrown in a lust-riddled haze, and Scully couldn't walk straight. He'd never been happier.


End file.
